


Shadow of the soul (engl. version)

by Leya



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leya/pseuds/Leya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tohma needs to learn that the darkness within his soul will always accompany him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow of the soul (engl. version)

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Shadow of the soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/640383) by [Leya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leya/pseuds/Leya). 



> Unbeta'd.

„We're here.“

The brusque voice of the taxi-driver shook Tohma out of his reverie and forced him to focus his attention on the here and now. Facing the task lying ahead of him was something he wanted to avoid by all cost but right now irresponsibility was a luxury he couldn't afford.

When he looked up he almost instantly noticed the way the driver warily watched his every move in the rear-view mirror and Tohma realised that his obvious absent-mindedness had stirred the man's suspicion.

The musician managed a reassuring smile and reached for his wallet.

„Thank you.“ He ensured that the fare included a generous tip and left the car. The cold wind of the beginning winter evening caught him off guard, making him shiver despite his warm coat. Still holding onto the door he turned to the driver again.

„Could you wait here? It won’t take long.“

„Sure.“

Tohma slammed the door and took another deep breath, preparing himself to face the shadows of his past one last time.

 

   
~

 

After a short walk he finally reached his destination and took the time to study the shabby facade of the building in front of him.

Nothing had changed.

Shivering he turned up his coat collar and carefully crossed the street but the closer he got to the dilapidated building the slower he moved. Why had he come? He shouldn't be here. Every fibre of his body screamed for escape, and yet he could do nothing but tread step by step toward the past.

He mounted the last steps as if sleepwalking and then he stood in front of the entrance, touching the rotten front-door with an uneasy feeling deep in his guts and the conviction in his mind that it would be better to let the ghosts of his past lie forever undisturbed and forgotten.

But could he really risk it?

Could he risk to wait until the wrecking company did its work? As far as he remembered there was nothing left that connected him with this place. But what if he had made a mistake? Even a small and insignificant one would mean his end. And he wouldn't be the only one whose life would be destroyed...

Not going to happen.

He still had one day to take care of any possible danger, enough time to make sure that nothing endangered his and – more importantly – Eiri’s future.

Tomorrow would already be too late. Within hours the building would be nothing more than a pile of broken stones and the nightmare that followed him since this fateful day so many years ago would finally come to an end.

A modern office complex would banish all the ghosts of the past and Tohma could hardly wait until the last stone had crumbled into the dust. Freedom was just a breath away – provided the building actually held no evidence of the horror that had occurred within its walls.

His hand pushed forward and with a baneful squeak the door opened, exposing a dusty hallway.

One short moment of hesitation before Tohma straightened himself and crossed the threshold, stepping right into the frightening darkness waiting there for him.

 

   
~

 

Thick clouds of dust whirled up with each step he took, making him sneeze. Finally Tohma stopped and pulled the collar of his coat over his mouth and nose before slowly continuing further down the hallway.

It was almost too much for him to bear. Nothing had changed at all. Everything looked exactly the same it had back then. A nightmare frozen in time, caught in this one terrible moment his life had been torn apart, leaving nothing behind but pain and guilt and sorrow.

Tohma stopped in front of one of the walls and ran a gloved finger over the ugly wallpaper. The once bright green flowers were now covered by a thick layer of grit and the moment he touched it a wide strip peeled off and slid noiselessly to the ground.

An uneasy foreboding of something dark and disastrous made his skin crawl and Tohma managed with difficulty to ignore the nervous shudder running down his spine.

When he reached the door to the living-room at the far end of the house the nauseous feeling in his guts had turned into something different altogether and it took all his willpower not to turn around and flee.

The door opened with an almost inaudible squeak, revealing another room where time obviously stood still, another room were nothing had changed at all – even the fallen chair which he had knocked over in his hectic flight still lay there beside the dark leather sofa, the broken legs accusingly pointing towards him, and for a moment Tohma had trouble breathing.

'It's over. Nothing more than a memory...'

This place would soon cease to exist. Why on earth had he felt the need to come back here again?

Slowly Tohma backed away, moving towards the stairs that led to the first floor. When he set foot on the first step fear struck again but Tohma managed to suppress the upsurging panic and only the slight trembling of his hands gave him away.

 

   
~

 

Wrong... everything was so terribly wrong... He shouldn't be here. His presence was completely useless and just reopened wounds that were not even healed yet.

'Stop whining', he admonished himself, mustering up courage for what had to be done before he quickly crossed the threshold into the bedroom.

Behind him the door closed with a soft thud and not for the first time he dreaded what he possibly was about to find.

Reluctantly he looked at the dirty wall, covered with cobwebs and dust. It seemed to take forever for his mind to register what his eyes already told him: there were still bloodstains on the wall.

Although Tohma had feared that there still was evidence of the former events to find, seeing the proof made him feel dizzy. Memories of the most terrible moment of his life hit him full force and suddenly he again heard the scream of a dying man and smelled the blood-filled air that seemed to hang like a heavy cloud over the small room.

Choking Tohma covered his mouth with his hands but it was too late. The past he had buried inside his soul so long ago poured to the surface and shattered the barriers he had built around his memories.

With trembling hands he touched the previously soiled wall, remembering the ghastly scene of blood and brain matter dripping from the ugly bricks, nearly drowning in the terrible emptiness draining his soul since that fateful day.

His only comfort was that Eiri would never know the whole truth.

On his way to this place Tohma had soothed himself that the decision he had made back then had been the only way out under the given circumstances.

What else could he have done? Calling an ambulance and make sure that he got to the hospital after all he had done?

No, this alternative would have been tantamount to a betrayal. He had decided correctly and all he could do now was to protect the good which had come out of this decision at all costs.

He'd shooed Eiri out of the house before obliterating all traces of their presence. The distraught boy had run away in grateful silence and left it to Tohma to sort things out.

And Tohma had complied without hesitation.

The young musician had torn his jacket into small strips, crawling on hands and knees through a mad nightmare of blood and tears while using the thin rag to wipe up the blood that spread in wide streaks across the room. The fetid air took his breath away, making him choke, barely swallowing the bile gathering in his throat and then he heard it.

Yuki Kitazawa was still alive!

Tohma froze in mid-movement and stared into the wide-open eyes of the allegedly dead man, whose laboriously breathing resounded loudly in his ears. Suddenly he held the weapon in his hand and pulled the trigger, again and again until he'd emptied the entire magazin into the twitching body.

And then he was once again in the present, realising with an uneasy shiver that he was no longer alone. Something seemed to be lurking in the shadows, an almost icy presence, eagerly waiting to devour him.

'Your bad conscience troubles you, To-chan? It should. You killed me', a cruel voice whispered in the depths of his soul. Tohma pressed his hands to his ears in a desperate attempt to flee from his demons, even though he knew only too well that there was no escape.

Panic seemed to be crashing onto him. He couldn't stay here any longer. It was completely impossible for him to remain in this place.

But it was too late to escape. With each breath the walls seemed to be closing in on him, threatening to suffocate him with guilt and pain and damnation. Images of the past mixed with the present, mercilessly forcing him to relive him all the painful memories and emotions again.

Tohma fell to his knees. The room was spinning and the last thing the musician felt was the hard ground beneath him before the world sank into an all-consuming darkness.

 

   
~

 

When Tohma regained consciousness he lay in exactly the same place in which he had executed Kitazawa.

With a strangled cry he scrambled up and quickly staggered back. It had been a nightmare! No more and no less. Kitazawa was dead!

Still he did not really feel safe. The memory of the relentless voice inside of him that seemed to know all his secrets so well nearly scared to death.

'You are hysterical', he told himself and with great effort he shook off the slight feeling of dizziness pursuing him since he passed out.

He carefully scanned the parquet floor, finding the place he was looking for and let his gaze linger on the pale shadow beneath the thick layer of dust.

After all these years the blood was still there.

With a moaning sob Tohma realised that for the past ten years he had deceived himself. His guilt would never disappear, his torment never be over. The blood on his hands would pursue him for the rest of his life and one day it would be his downfall.

Not even levelling the house would make a difference. There was nothing that could destroy the demons inside. They would always be there, their memories tearing with sharp teeth at his soul and suck even the smallest bit of happiness out of him.

That was something he'd have to accept for the rest of his life but that didn't mean he'd put his future – or Eiri's – at risk.

Tomorrow morning construction workers would surely check the building to clear out any homeless people and they'd find the traces of a crime. The police would remember the mysterious case which could not be solved and the investigation would be reopened.

This would not happen.

Despite all his care, he'd not been thorough enough. He had to do it again but this time he wouldn't make any more mistakes.

With one hand he fumbled in his pocket for his lighter. The clear, bright flame calmed him down and promised relief for his tortured nerves.

And while the first flames flickered up the rotten curtains Tohma climbed down the stairs and for the first time in ten years he was convinced that their future was now finally safe from the shadows of the past.

 

   
END


End file.
